


A Simple Request

by Sunshine101010



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: A bit ‘o violence included, Black Hat is a jerk: the musical, Dark Humor, F/M, Gen, Gender-neutral Reader, M/M, angst if you squint, dumb-ass reader, flug tries to be helpful, he’s not really good at it, it’s not too bad but I’m a weenie, reader thinks they’re a badass, they are not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-07 13:36:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19210513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sunshine101010/pseuds/Sunshine101010
Summary: Really, it was a simple procedure. Capture the good guy, then kill him. Black Hat had no idea how you could mess up something that straightforward, but he had no problem in correcting you for it.Honestly, you weren’t quite sure how you could fail the task, either. Then again, “oblivious” was one of your personality traits, at this point.





	A Simple Request

The man underneath you was unconscious. He was lying on the gravel road, blood pooling around him from the various injuries he had received. They were minor, only a few gashes here and a tasteful scrape there. It was probably nothing for a superhero such as himself. Your legs straddled his upper torso, hands shaking above your head. You were holding a knife, grasping tightly to the cold metal handle.

It was aimed straight for his throat.

A villain had requested the aid of Mr. Black Hat, your well-respected and horrifyingly vicious boss, to eradicate a pesky hero for him. It was a common event in the Black Hat mansion. Nothing to get worked up about. Doctor Flug and Demencia would go out for the day, Black Hat would wait in his study, and you would continue your daily routine of filing paperwork along with other such mundane tasks. You were new to the organization, but you were eager to please.

You couldn't help but drift back to the memory of when Black Hat had told you to join the others on this particular manhunt. You were so happy, finally being able to go out onto the field. You imagined yourself waltzing around like a true villain, capturing heroes and proving your worth to your boss and fellow subordinates. He trusted you enough to allow you to go and help, and you had set out with a bounce in your step and determination in your eyes.

So why, you wondered to yourself frantically as you dangled the blade inches from the hero's neck, _why_ couldn't you find that determination anymore, now that you were so close to finishing the task? Your resolve seemed to ooze and drip out of your body, much like the blood spilling from the unfortunate caped crusader below you. Uncertainty was creeping into your skin, seeming to clog your thoughts and actions. Why was this so hard? Black Hat's orders were simple when he stated them only this morning. As always, he was blunt, to the point.

Kill the hero. That's all you had to do.

You brought the knife even closer to him, pressing it into his neck just enough to make the skin indent slightly. 

What was this man's name again? The question popped into your thoughts, making you stop yourself for a minute. You couldn't quite remember. Captain Courtesy, maybe? It was something dumb, something tacky and forgettable. Did he have a family? The thought slammed into your head like a jackhammer. _Who cares?_ Right. You certainly didn't. You were a villain, and there was no mercy in your blackened, chilly heart. You could kill him in cold blood, whether or not he had a Mrs. Courtesy waiting at home, cooking on the stove while his children played outside, oblivious to the fact that they were going to get a very _nasty_ phone call later that day. She would pick up the device, press it to her ear, and listen as a police officer gave his condolences. Would his dog wait at the door? Would his mother be so distraught that she'd cry for days? Would his best friend's voice crack when he delivered his speech at the funeral?

You were stuck like that, frozen in place and numb as stupid little questions filled your head. Someone was speaking to you, somewhere far away. You couldn't quite make out the words, but they seemed frantic. Everything was hazy, as if you were underwater, sinking, drowning.

"Hurry up and _do it,_ before he wakes up!" came  that same hectic, frenzied voice. You glanced up, holding your stance. It was Flug, running towards you and shouting. His eyes were wide, pulling at his paper bag in agitation as he watched you freeze.

You looked down into the hero's face, only to be confronted with a pair of blue eyes staring back at you.

Oh, _oh shit_.

His burly hand grabbed the fabric of your shirt, wrenching you off of him. Captain Coolguy (was that the correct name?) slammed you to the floor, a splitting pain coursing through your body seconds after. He lifted you back up, punching you in the gut with enough force to send you crashing back to the ground several feet away. You could feel a sharp pain in your side. Looking down, you realized that a piece of debris from the fight had wedged itself into your skin, blood leaking out the wound. You would think again the next time you littered, you noted absently, hurting all over and bleeding out.

You could hear as Captain Colgate laughed somewhere nearby, but your vision was going hazy for some reason. It took hours before a pair of hands lifted you up and carried you. Or, thinking back on it, was it only a few minutes that had passed? You couldn't remember. You could only remember how much you hated Cadet Coriander and his _stupid_ hypothetical family that you had come up with. You hoped that his marriage ended horribly with the wife you had imagined him having. Stupid Colonel Crackerjack and his stupid dog. May it get rabies, for all you cared.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

At some point in your delirium, you realized that you were on a metal table. This was upsetting for a number of reasons. First off, you couldn't remember how you got there, and second off, the metal was rather chilly and hurt your back. Honestly, couldn't you have mysteriously woken up on a sofa or something? 

You opened your eyes, only to be greeted by a piercingly bright light. Oh no, were you dead? Worry suddenly overpowered you. You had a _lot_ of shit to explain to the Big Man Upstairs if you had even the slightest chance of weaseling your ass through those pearly gates.

Groaning from the horrible headache that suddenly made itself apparent, you brushed aside any thoughts of being dead, realizing that your pain was far too familiar and earthly. You tried to sit up, only able to prop yourself on your elbows before experiencing another wave of discomfort.

"H-hey now, lie back down before you make things worse," came a nervous voice at your side.

You shot up instantly, turning to Flug and grabbing onto his thin shoulders.

"Oh hell, how long have I been out?" you asked frantically, voice raised to a shout. "Where's Carl Carpenter?"

"Calm down, you're delirious!" Flug replied, pushing you gently down, back onto the cold metal. The doctor looked tired, worried, and two seconds away from a panic attack.

So, basically, he looked like his usual self.

"You've been unconscious for a few hours, mumbling something about a dog and the difficulty of filing divorcement papers. You sustained some serious injuries after Commander Courageous pummeled you into the ground. I was able to patch you up fairly well, though," Flug stated, voice detached, like he was simply rattling off statistics.

"He escaped, by the way," he added coldly.

"Oh," you responded simply, dread washing over your body, "So... his name was Commander Courageous? Man, I wasn't even _close_."

 _"This isn't a joke, can't you understand that?"_ Flug suddenly screeched, losing his cool, which was a very easy task for him to accomplish. He could proudly boast that he was in fact a master in the particular field of anxiety called “losing your cool.” "What were you even thinking, just standing there like an idiot while you had a clear shot? Do you realize how pathetic you looked, crying and shaking like a child."

"Now, don't be _rude_ , doctor. I wasn't crying. I'm just so evil that I'm allergic to good guys. My eyes were simply irritated and watering from all the justice and goodwill radiating off of that guy. Shouldn't you know that? You are a _doctor_ after all.”

"I'm, _I'm not that type of doctor, stupid_ ," Flug responded, at wits end.

His irritation suddenly melted away when he uttered his next words, a cold, dangerous sort of fear replacing his previous mannerisms.

"Black Hat knows. He told me to tell you that he wants to see you in his office the moment you wake up.” 

"Did you tell him?" you asked quietly, dropping your carefree act, tracing circles with your finger on the cold metal while looking hesitantly at the doctor.

"I, well, I- I didn't have a choice. He would have figured out, eventually. What was I supposed to do, lie to his face?" Flug began to rant defensively, shifting his face, er, bag away from you, crossing his arms and trying to hide the guilt in his eyes.

You sat back up, attempting not to vomit from the pain as you gently touched the doctor's shoulder, "I don't blame you, Doctor Flug. This was my mess-up, and I have to deal with the consequences. Thank you, for patching me up, that is."

He gave you an uneasy look, awkwardly patting your back, trying to be comforting but failing miserably.

"If you really grovel enough, he might let you live," the doctor offered softly.

“You _really_ think he's gonna kill me when I have a hypothetical wife cooking on the stove at home, waiting for me?"

"I swear on my life, I checked you for a concussion and there wasn't any."

You chose to ignore him and hopped off the table, keenly aware of the bandaged cut on your side, and hobbled towards the door. You glanced one last time at Flug.

"Thank you, for the pearl of wisdom, good doctor. In case I don't come back, I just want to let you know that you're a sad, _sad_ little man, but it was an honor to work with you," you stated solemnly with a small salute, leaving before he could respond.

You ambled through the long corridor, trying not to think about what was going to happen next. Why couldn't you just have done your job correctly? You knew you would have to murder someone, eventually. It was kinda in the job description, being cruel and evil and all.

You stopped in front of the door, his door. You knocked, once, twice. Every one of your movements felt mechanical, a certain amount of detachment laced throughout them. 

"Enter," came the gruff voice from inside, the command short, to the point.

You hobbled into Black Hat's study, gathering your courage and ripping your gaze from the floor to where he stood at his desk. His back was turned to you, hands clasp behind him. You walked up to the front of the desk, idly gripping to the dark oak, breath shallow and knuckles white.

"You called for me, sir?" you rasped blearily, terrified.

He suddenly turned around, placing his hands on either side of the desk and leaning forward, face inches from your own. He was smiling cruelly, eyes narrowed dangerously as he peered at you.

"Yes, I certainly did," he replied casually, as if talking about the weather. "I wanted to see how you were holding up. You didn't return from your mission in the best condition, after all."

"Oh, I'm fine, sir. Just a few scrapes and a bit of internal bleeding and such," you replied nervously, scratching the back of your head in confusion, your other hand subconsciously ghosting over the gash in your side. It wasn't like Black Hat to be so civil, so polite. What was he playing at?

"Oh, that's good to hear, very good," your boss replied airily, leaning back from your figure and straightening his tie. He gave you a pointed look, as if expecting you to speak.

"Was that all you wanted to talk about, uh, Mr. Black Hat, sir?" you tried to question steadily, holding back the tremble in your voice.

"Ah, that's right. There was one more thing I wanted to discuss," he stated, closing his eyes and humming gently, as if wracking his brain for what he forgot to say.

"Yes, I remember now," he opened his eyes, quickly lunged forward and grabbed the shirt fabric on your chest, heaving you up off the floor and closer to him, knees knocking against the hard desk.

" _Explain to me why you allowed for a hero to escape from you when he was practically served on a silver platter. Do you have any idea how pathetic you sounded in Flug's report, you imbecile?"_ he shrieked in your face, fangs flashing dangerously.

"Well, with all due respect," you began, choking back a scream, "How much can you really trust Flug with his report? I mean... he constantly wears a paper bag over his head. His eyesight might not be the best... I probably didn't look too patheti-"

"Shut up, won't you," Black Hat growled, lifting you up even higher before deftly hauling you onto his desk, various knickknacks and documents tumbling to the floor. He loomed over your shaking body, pinning you to the cold surface by the arms, fingers biting into soft skin.

"Do you understand how severely incompetent your actions were today? You allowed an idiotic, low-class bastard of a hero to escape. You went directly against my orders. I want to know why," he punctuated his last statement by shaking you furiously in his grip, your battered body feeling each movement.

"I- I don't know why, Mr. Black Hat. I just... couldn't. I didn't want to go against orders, I swear. I'd do anything for you, anything," you replied, desperately trying to hold back the tears forming in your eyes.

"I'd die for you."

Black Hat loosened his grip when you uttered those words, his expression softening into a blank stare. He hated the sincerity in your voice, the raw emotion practically bleeding out of it. How could you say that to him, no, how dare you say that to him, especially with that look in your eyes. It was pathetic, and he needed you to stop it.

"I'm not asking you to die for me, you twit, I'm asking you to _kill for me_ ," he yelled, his anger returning, full force.

"I know exactly why you couldn't do it, why you wouldn't. You're weak, soft," he hissed in your ear, hand wandering down your body to rest over the wound at your side, cruelly digging his fingers into the gash.

You let out a broken scream, white-hot pain making your vision hazy. His other hand moved from your shoulder to wrap around your throat, wide palm flat against your airway, putting only enough pressure to make you keenly aware of its place there. 

"You would die for me, you say? Yes well, you certainly almost went through with that idiotic statement today. Do you really think that hero was going to let you live? Do you understand, _truly understand,_ that if Demencia and Flug weren't there to save you, he was going to let you die? For the greater good, of course. You'd be surprised how merciless _'the greater good_ ' can be," he scolded, his voice strained, as if he was trying to hold back his aggravation.

"What- what would it matter, if I died? You wouldn't care; you don't care about anyone," you muttered, lightheaded and weak and done with his shit. You could understand his anger because you had failed your mission, but why was he bringing up this? You knew full-well that Black Hat was heartless, selfish, narcissistic. He didn't give a damn about anyone's life, let alone yours.

Black Hat scoffed above you, taking in your features, committing them to memory. You looked much paler than usual, lips losing their pink tint, cheeks not holding even a flush. Your eyes seemed to not be able to focus; they were clouded, confused. It reminded him of how you looked, only hours earlier, when Demencia barged into the manor, holding you like a sack of potatoes.

For a second, he had thought for certain that you had died, as you lay motionless in her arms, limp and covered in blood. He hated how fragile you looked on that cursed metal table as Flug bent over you, disinfecting shallow cuts and stitching skin back together. There was a tightness in Black Hat's chest as he watched the entire process, brooding in the background and simply observing. He hated the feeling, despised it. It made him furious. He had seen several cadavers in his long, long life. None of them had ever upset him, had ever shaken or disturbed him.

But, for some odd reason, he had realized that he never wanted to see _your_ dead body, cold and lifeless on a metal table.

"I care about keeping a good image for my company, you fool," Black Hat replied, shaking his disturbing thoughts from his brain, "You are a disgrace, truly. No powers, no strength, do you realize how horribly inept you look compared to the others? The only thing you can use to your advantage is willpower, resolution. But no, you won't even kill a hero," his fingers curled around your neck even tighter, effectively cutting off oxygen, "You will be _slaughtered_ if you do not rectify this. Some idiot in a cape will _murder_ you."

 _"Do. You. Under. Stand?"_ he stated coldly, punctuating each syllable by hitting your head against the desk, never loosening his grip on your neck. 

You coughed, sputtered, attempted to inhale oxygen into your burning lungs, tears flowing freely now from your eyes. You reached up with both hands and grabbed the wrist that was choking you. You didn't even pull at him, didn't even try to stop him. To his absolute disgust, you simply held on. You weren't even trying to fight him off, to claw or scratch or kick for your life. Your body wriggled underneath him, but in a defeated, desperate sort of way that made him sneer.

"You aren't even going to _attempt_ to fight me, you pathetic coward?" he scoffed, loosening his grip slightly on your neck, noting how your lips had started to turn blue.

You inhaled deeply, taking in raspy, desperate breaths and coughing hoarsely.

"But," you wheezed, "You're my boss, I can't-"

 _"I'm your boss who's about to kill you; put your priorities in order and grow a backbone, won't you?"_ he hissed indignantly, borderline shouting in your face.

Your eyes went wide as what he said sank in. He was going to kill you, and he wanted to watch you fight and squirm until you died. You had failed him, and he wasn't going to give you a second chance. The gravity of the situation seeped into your bones, into your soul, or, at least where it was supposed to be.

You _did_ sell it to Black Hat quite awhile ago.

You choked back a sob as he tightened his grip once again on your neck, a frantic sort of terror overtaking every inch of your sore and damaged body. His other hand dug into your wound again, making your vision hazy with pain.

 _Fine_ , if you were going to die, you'd give him a scratch or two to remember you by.

You grasped tighter to his hand, pulling and tugging, fingernails digging into his leather glove as you tried to pry it off of you. Lifting up your legs, you kicked him squarely in the stomach, surprised at how solid the flesh was there. It reminded you of how horribly inhuman he was. You tried to scream, try to cry out for help, but you couldn't breath, let alone speak. You relentlessly continued thrashing, punching, doing anything to escape. He looked down at you with a detached expression the entire time, not even flinching at any one of your attempts to hurt him. You realized with a pang of despair that you hadn't once actually injured him. Trying to remove his hand from your throat was as futile as trying to bend steel. He was as solid as a... as a _very_  solid object. Like, _so_ solid. Unwavering and... solid.

The lack of oxygen seemed to be affecting your brain, you pondered as you continued to think about how solid Black Hat was. 

You couldn't concentrate anymore. Your surroundings were turning dark, body going numb as your chest burned like there was a fire inside of it. In a last desperate attempt, you splayed your hand across the desk, feeling for anything you could use to protect yourself. Your hand fumbled for a bit before landing on something pointed, sharp. You glanced over to what you were holding.

It was a small letter opener, no longer than your palm. It gleamed, even in the faint light. You had seen it several times before, when Black Hat would use it to open envelopes or open packages from the mail or threaten clients by promising to open their heads and remove their brains.

You inspected the small object for a moment longer, feeling it’s weight in your hand.

In one swift motion, you swung it up in a single arc, where it pierced right into Black Hat's throat.

His hand suddenly let you go, and you heaved in deep, long gulps of air. You reached up to lightly touch where he had been strangling you, flinching. It _hurt_. His other hand let go of your side as well, and you tried to scramble off his desk but realized that you could barely move. You dared to glance up at him, entire body trembling.

He was looking down at you with a surprisingly blank expression, not displaying even a hint of emotion. He reached to his neck and absently played with the handle of the knife lodged there. He pulled it out, inspected it for a moment, then placed it on the desk, next to you. It didn't even have a speck of blood on it, and the skin where you had pierced him was unblemished, healing the moment he had plucked out the object, as if suffering from a simple splinter. 

"Now, _was that so difficult?"_ he asked, a disgustingly smug grin suddenly growing on his face, his tone similar to that of a parent scolding a misbehaving child who had finally done as they were told.

You trembled, not understanding what he was saying and still shaken from how he had removed the letter opener from his body.

 _"What are you?"_ you murmured, fear coating your hoarse voice.

"You'd go insane if I showed you, _really showed you_ , what I am. Best not to worry your little head over it," he replied with a chuckle, patting your disheveled hair before stepping back and sitting in his chair. 

You laid still for a second, collecting your thoughts and catching your breath. After a few moments, you hoisted yourself up, perched on his desk, facing him while your legs dangled over the edge.

"This was a test, wasn't it? You did it to make me fight, to 'kill'. You wanted to see if I'd be bold enough, if I had enough willpower to do it," you whispered to him, voice raspy and weak.

Black Hat raised an eyebrow, smile widening slightly, "It's a relief to see that you are _slightly_ less clueless than I had believed."

You both stared at each other for a minute, his face never wavering with it's smug expression, your face pale and blotched with red patches from exertion, eyes glassy and breathing ragged.

"You're a real jerk," you finally told him, voice breaking along with the silence. You folded your arms around yourself, wearily looking at him from your place on his desk. 

"Watch yourself, my dearest employee. I wouldn't push my luck," he replied lightly, leaning forward slightly in his chair, hands clasp together.

"Didn't you want me to be bolder, braver?" you asked with a grim smile, feeling a spark of anger ignite in your stomach. 

Black Hat laughed, the sharp sound echoing throughout the room. He crossed one of his legs, leaning to the side in his chair and placing his chin on his fist.

"Yes, that was the point, but I didn't say to be _stupid_. Insulting me won't grant you any favors. That is, unless you have a death wish," he replied with a chuckle, enjoying the way your eyebrows knit in frustration.

"I have a lot of work to do, so if I may, I'll go ahead and leave, Mr. Black Hat" you stated plainly, ready for this situation to be over and still pretty damn peeved with him, knowing that he had only been toying with you the entire time. 

"Hmm, that would probably be for the best. You're bleeding all over my paperwork; it's awfully inconvenient for me," he responded lazily, never ripping his gaze from your eyes. 

"How inconsiderate of me, I'm sorry," you mumbled with as much sarcasm as you dared to let leak out of your voice, shifting to hop off of the desk.

You braced yourself, determined not to lose your footing when you moved. You had to salvage at least a smidge of dignity from this encounter. You placed your hands on the edge of the desk, pushing off gently to land on your feet.

Your legs instantly gave way from underneath you, leading you to jerk forward and land your upper body straight into Black Hat's lap, knees crashing to the floor at his feet.

A part of you just wished he had simply killed you.

You grasped for something to steady yourself with, realizing with horror that the first thing you had in your reach was his leg. You reeled back, whipping your body backwards to get away from the Eldritch nightmare and effectively bashing your head against the top of the desk. 

Dear God, everything hurt.

“Sorry, sorry!” you exclaimed as you rubbed the back of your head, face turning a dark shade of pink and the cool demeanor you had tried to display vanishing immediately. “I’m- that was on accident! I’m not that kind of evil henchman, I _swear_!” you continued, raising your hands in a sign of surrender. 

You tried to scramble to your feet once more, shaking with exertion as you finally stood on trembling legs. You looked at your boss’s face, noting the plain annoyance evident on his features. 

“You are such a dolt,” he stated with an exasperated sigh, rubbing at his temple before standing up and lifting you into his arms with one fell swoop. “This is why I worry that you’re going to get yourself killed,” he mumbled to himself, thinking out loud. 

Oh, wait, he thought absently. Did he truly just say that, out loud? No, surely not. He would never make such a grievous mistake. He was the devilishly nefarious and scandalously handsome Black Hat, for bloody sake. He never said such drivel. He scoffed at the mere thought of him spouting such nonsense, and especially out loud for someone to hear. It was ridiculous, the very thought.

“You... _worry_ about me, sir?” your voice piped up quietly from where he held you, glancing up at him with big eyes. 

By everything unholy, he truly _did_ say it out loud, he thought with anguish. He had half the mind to throw you out the window due to the way you were smiling at him right now. 

 _“No, I did not say that you did not hear that and if you mention any word of this one more time I will be forced to eradicate you,”_ he said in an angry rush, baring his teeth at you and contorting his face into a grisly display of inhuman terror and rage.

You smirked.

“Okay, okay, don’t worry I won’t,” you replied, a pleased expression on your face.

“I almost murdered you right now, and you’re _smiling_ at me,” Black Hat stated drearily as he started carrying you out of his study and through the hallway. So much for instilling the fear of death in you, he thought sadly.

“Hmm, am I?” you asked coyly, patting his chest in a derogatory manner.

“Did I not make myself clear earlier, when I told you not to push your luck?” he growled back, giving you a withering glare. 

“Sorry, sorry sir,” you replied, sobering up, “I think I’m just still giddy from stabbing you... Well, it’s either that, or the blood loss and blunt-force trauma that’s making me light-headed. Who knows?” you added with a chuckle, resting your head on Black Hat’s shoulder as he continued to walk.

“Uh, where are we going, anyway?” you questioned, just now actually processing that he was carrying you someplace.

“I’m bringing you to your room, and then Flug is going to tend to you from there. You look like you wrestled a pack of wolves. Blindfolded. With your arms chained together... Tied to a pole,” your boss stated gruffly, not pausing for a second with his brisk motions.

“That bad, huh?” you laughed lightly. 

“What about my duties for today?” you added, closing your eyes since the world was spinning slightly for some odd reason.

“You’re in no condition to do anything right now. Anyway, you’d get blood everywhere, and that’s a hassle to clean.” 

“Very true,” you nodded wisely, humming your agreement. 

Black Hat arrived at your room, opening the door unceremoniously and carrying you inside. He placed you in your bed with more care than he’d care to admit, and then he pulled the covers over you as well. No use in having you catch a cold and not be able to work for even longer, he thought logically. Yes, that was the reason why he tucked you in so gently. It wasn’t because he wanted you to be comfortable. It definitely wasn’t because he was _worried_ about you.

He lingered at the side of your bed for a second longer than necessary, cursing to himself as he heard you speak up in your delirious state.

“Thanks for bringing me to my bed, oh, and for not killing me, either,” you began, eyes drooping, “Although, I didn’t appreciate you strangling me like that.”

Your boss narrowed his eyes, giving you a pointed look.

“Oh, right, right, I’m pushing it, aren’t I?” you mumbled, voice slurred. “Hey, but, I promise that I won’t fail you next time, sir. I’ll do it, next time. And I won’t get myself killed, I swear. I wouldn’t want you to get worri- oh, right, not gonna talk about that,” you said with a chuckle, pressing a finger to your lips, eyes closing against your will.

Black Hat scoffed, peering down at you as you were about to drift to sleep. 

“Just shut up and rest, won’t you?” he huffed, taking his leave just as you murmured a half-hearted “Yes, sir.”

It was a rather simple request, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to comment any ideas for my next oneshot, if you’d like! I love feedback, so anything is greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading, and until next time! :-)


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